They take their places, And when the signal is given, away they go, Like rain from storm-cloud, bodies leaning forward, Eyes on the goal. And for the lead it’s Nisus, Swifter than winds or lightning; running second, A good way back, comes Salius; and the third one, Third at some distance, is Euryalus, Helymus next; right on his heels Diores. There’s a little crowding there, the course too narrow, Diores, full of run, is in a pocket, He can’t get through. The race is almost over, Their breath comes hard, they are almost at the finish,-- There’s a pool of blood on the ground, where the slain bullocks Fell in the sacrifice, a slippery puddle Red on green ground, and Nisus does not see it, Nisus, still leading, thinking himself the winner, Is out of luck, his feet slide out from under, He wobbles, totters, recovers himself a little, Slips and goes forward, in a beautiful header Through blood and mud. But he keeps his wits about him, Does not forget his friend Euryalus; rising, And sort of accidentally on purpose, Gets in the way of Salius and spills him, A cartwheel, head over heels on the flying sand. Euryalus flashes past, an easy winner Thanks to his friend’s assistance, and they cheer him; Helymus second; in third place, Diores.
Immediately there’s a loud howl of protest, Salius shrieking in the elders’ faces With cries of _Foul!_ and _Outrage!_ “I was robbed, Give me first prize!” But all the popular favor Sides with Euryalus, who is young, and weeping, And better-looking; and Diores backs him, Loudly, of course, since who would get the helmet If Salius was first? Aeneas ends it:-- “The race will stand as run; you get your prizes As first proposed; no one will change the order; But one thing I can do, and will do,--offer A consolation to our innocent friend.” With this, he gives a lion-skin to Salius, Heavy with shaggy hair, and the claws gilded. Nisus is heard from:--“If you’re giving prizes For falling down, what’s good enough for Nisus? I would have won it surely, only Fortune Gave me the same bad deal she handed Salius!” And with the words he made a sudden gesture Showing his muddy face. Aeneas, laughing, Ordered another prize, a shield for him, The work of Didymaon, stolen by Greeks, From Neptune’s temple sometime, but recovered, A worthy prize for a distinguished hero.